Keith Phipps Is Making Sense
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in the "kp3000" journal:[<< Previous 20 entries]
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05:35 pm
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We've moved
If you're reading this, you're looking at the wrong place. I still think LiveJouranl is awesome but I found I could do more that I wanted to do at Blogger. So, please see me at <a href="http://keithphipps.blogspot.com/">http://keithphipps.blogspot.com/</a>. Thanks!
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05:42 pm
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Shuffle Life, Part 3
If someone ever tells you that 1972 Mexico horror film The Mansion Of Madness is "good," just ignore them.
18. Roy Orbison - "In Dreams"
Quentin Tarantino has talked about how sometimes films use music so memorably that they "own" the songs. Blue Velvet owns this one, although if you can get past the image of a sadistic Dennis Hopper, it's easy to see why people talk about Orbison's operatic qualities. Also, what a weird pop song. No set structure. No proper ending. But perfect.
19. ZZ Top - "Tush"
From the sublime to the, well, to the tush. My friend Bryce just found out that Frank Beard is the guy member without the beard. I think he was the last to know this.
20. The Precisions - "You're The Best (That Ever Did It)
Not the tawdry come on it sounds like, but a really sweet, pleasantly lazy-sounding soul song. This almost sounds like a rehearsal take that someone decided was good enough. And it was.
21. The Louvin Brothers - "Hoping That You're Hoping"
"Can you remember, dear, when you said
If I ever stopped loving you you'd ever be dead
Well, dear, I don't know what on earth changed your mind
No matter who's holding you, your heart is still mine."
It's the "dears" that kill. And the harmonies.
22. The Challengers - "Surf-Ari"
Self-explanatory.
23. Warren Zevon - "Basket Case"
Mad love told with black humor. Nobody did that better than Zevon, although he did it better elsewhere. An aside: Is there a better song title than "Even A Dog Can Shake Hands"?
24. The Divine Comedy - "Here Comes The Flood"
Hmmm... I used to be really into this album. Now this song just sounds like a bad show tune. Maybe it's better in context. I haven't listened in a while. Also, is the spoken word guy trying to sound like Casey Kasem?
25. Jimmy Eat World - "Hear You Me"
This band just works for me. They want to stir big emotions and they do, particularly on this album. They seem about as unpretentious as a bar band—this song actually references angels without irony, repeatedly—and that works for them too. Feel free to roll your eyes.
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11:51 am
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Shuffle Life: Part 3
11. The Nightingales - "I Got A Feeling"
A post-golden age single from Stax. Not bad, if a little insane. The singer won't let his baby go to church or let the insurance man come 'round anymore. Devotion = paranoia.
12. The Congos - "Can't Come In"
And speaking of insanity and paranoia, it's in this song too, and in the story behind the song. Of course, insanity and paranoia are never far behind when Lee "Scratch" Perry is behind the boards. This is from one of the best albums to come out of Perry's Black Ark studio. You can't record there now. It burned down. If the stories are true, it burned down because Perry believed that Satan lived there.
13. The Magnetic Fields - "World Love"
An attempt at fake world music leads to one of the less memorable tunes from 69 Love Songs.
14. The Clientele - "I Want You More Than Ever"
London indie-pop act filters the Byrds through Galaxie 500. It all sounds kind of the same, but it's a good same: Hazy, pleasant, but a little unsettling. This is apparently what happens when you surrender to the paranoia of "I Got A Feeling," lose the girl, and then years later decide you made a mistake. The feeling barely makes a sound.
15. U2 - "Sweetest Thing"
For all the attention given to All That You Can't Leave Behind the U2 comeback began here, with a new take on an old song. Never understood why Boyzone was in the video, however.
16. Hot Hot Heat - "Goodnight Goodnight"
Ignore the backlash. This is a fine album.
17. Nick Lowe - "14 Days"
Anyone not paying attention to Nick Lowe's recent comeback albums really needs to change that. Now a silver-haired troubador, Lowe hasn't so much reinvented himself as stopped worrying about playing catch-up with everyone else and simply singing her from heart. This is from a live album that's not quite the essential purchase as his past few studio albums.
Okay, now I have to watch this week's Film That Time Forgot.
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11:10 am
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Shuffle Life: Part 2
2. Roky Erickson - "Bermuda"
Cracked genius or just cracked? It's hard to tell. This track from the recent two-disc collection of the psychedelic Austin pioneer seems to suggest the latter. Here he seems to latch on to Bermuda the same way he would latch on to aliens and monsters as a means to talk about... somethin. Word is Roky's doing pretty good these days, however. There's a foundation set up to make sure he gets the care (and royalties) he deserves. It also, presumably, keeps him from stealing others' mail for art projects.
3. Marvin Gaye - "Time To Get It Together"
Shudder. A track from Here My Dear, Gaye's divorce album. It's a brilliant album but I've only listened to it twice: Once when I first got it, and once when I was thinking, a lot, about a friend's divorce. It's frighteningly raw. Two song titles say it all: "When Did I Stop Loving You? When Did You Stop Loving Me?" and "You Can Leave, But It's Going To Cost You.
4. The Cardigans - "Step On Me"
The one-hit wonder that should have had more hits. This from the album with Lovefool, which, if you've got it, deserves another listen and if you don't will cost you about $2.99 at the nearest used record store. Avoid the later collaboration with Tom Jones. It was a big hit in Europe but then so were lederhosen.
5. Love and Rockets - "So Alive"
I never felt that strongly about this song when it was a hit. I still don't. But the pull of nostalgia takes me back. "No New Tale To Tell"... now that song I like
6. Lee Hazlewood & Nancy Sinatra - "Did You Ever?"
Not sure what's going on in this song. Lee and Nancy finish each others' sentences. They seem to be breaking up because Nancy cheated on him. Then she fixes him a tall drink and they decide not to have break-up sex. Anyway, their collection of jokey, countryfied, psychedelic duets is highly recommended.
7. The Rolling Stones - "The Lantern"
Okay, now I'm pretty sure my iPod Is on drugs. This comes from the—yes, there's that word again—psychedelic Their Satanic Majesties Request. Much hated in its day, it sounds pretty good today. It's the Stones trying, and failing, to keep up with the now sound. But it's an interesting failure and it's got "She's A Rainbow" and "2000 Man" (a.k.a. that song from Bottle Rocket) on it.
8. Dr. Dre - "Nothin' But A G Thing"
Indeed. It is nothin' but a G thing, baby.
9. Elvis Presley - "Raised On Rock"
Oh god. This is some kind of nadir. It's '70s Elvis singing nostalgically about being, um, "Raised On Rock." It's the king getting nostalgic about the music he kickstarted, music that's about everything but nostalgia. Elvis is so, so much better than Bob Seger but this is so, so much worse than "Old Time Rock And Roll."
10. Flaming Lips - "They Punctured My Yolk"
Yes, my iPod is definitely on drugs.
Current Music: Much
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10:32 am
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Shuffle Life: Me and my iPod get to know each other better
So, long time no write. My apologies, again.
Anyway, I've been extremely busy with work and personal stuff lately, all of which has cut into my blogging time. I'd like to change that. In the meantime, here's something a little more structured.
I've been ripping my CD collection to my hard drive—all of it. I think I have about 4000 CDs, so it's taking a while. It's a tedious process, but I needed to do it, if only to get back in touch with my music collection.
My iPod can't hold all of it, so it chooses 20 gigs at random. The criteria it uses confounds me but I decided to just go with it. Today I'm going to spend some time on shuffle and write about everything I hear.
These are the rules of engagement:
1) No skipping.
2) Sub-rule: Unless I encounter the same artist twice in rapid succession.
3) No classical music: Not that I don't enjoy it or it's not meaningful to me, but it's outside the parameters of what I can write about without sounding ignorant. For this project we're talking 20th century music and beyond. I took the further step of pulling the classical music off the randomly chosen iPod selection and substituting songs at random from collections with names like "hits" "best of" and "singles" in the title.
4) I think that's it. I did pull a few recent albums into the mix so I'd have them on hand for work purposes. I may skip those as well. I may not.
Okay, let's get started: One song now and more later in the day.
And the first song is...
1. Coldplay - "Clocks"
Jeez, that's not an auspicious beginning. Coldplay is a band that I like but I like a little less as their music starts to appear, well, everywhere. I think I get a Coldplay rip-off artist in my new CD stack each week. I'm not even sure I can hear this song anymore without thinking of shopping malls. Which isn't really fair to the song. Or Coldplay. But what can you do.
Current Music: Various
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06:32 pm
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Sound + Vision
The digital music revolution will only go so far
The other day I was trading e-mails with someone who's extremely enthusiastic about digital music and its future. You can color me enthusiastic with a few counter-revolutionary tendencies. In short, I love it. I love my iPod and my iTunes and the 70 gig and counting library I'm building on my recently installed hard drive. (Thanks Bryce!) But the question he raised was this: Will artwork disappear from albums (assuming albums persist.) I hate that idea, and this is where the counter-revolutionary thoughts come in. I don't love CDs or jewel cases, necessarily, but I would miss packaging, liner notes, cover art and all that desperately.
I remember seeing Bryan Ferry on VH1 once complaining about how listeners lost the "tactile" relationship with music when they stopped having to flip over albums. Whatever the aural advantages of vinyl—And is anyone still making that case? A warmer sound?Huh?—that's as nonsensical as saying that operas were improved by having the acts interrupted to put on the next 78. I don't want to be one of those people, but for me the cover art and liner notes are intrinsic parts of the albums. It's why I rarely download whole albums from iTunes or eMusic; I just cherry pick and fill out playlists. I don't know that I need the object. But I need the image. And, yes, I know that iTunes includes thumbnail covers but it's not quite the same is it?
Also, I'll let an image rest my case. To lose artwork would mean there would be no home for this, an image found in the great two-disc James Brown set Make It Funky: The Big Payback (1971-1975. Click for the full size image. Gaze and consider. Thank you.
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12:39 pm
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How I Spent My Winter Vacation
Down Mexico Way
So now I'm back from Mexico and in Chicago's loving, gray embrace. I'm happy to be back, but part of me wishes the vacation could go on a bit long, particularly since I'm now getting pounded by all the stuff that piled up in my absence. But, hey, whatever. It was a great vacation and it's not like those can last forever, by definition. (Although, heard today, Aerosmith's album Permanent Vacation does seem to go on forever.
Here's what we did: In essence, nothing. No schedules, no agendas. We lived on eventual time, like cats. When we were hungry we ate. When we were sleepy, we slept. Higher brain functions were needed only to read. And we read a lot. What was the name of that second Revenge Of The Nerds move? Nerds In Paradise. It was kind of like that.
So I'm not going to feel guilty about my vacation, no matter what the Let's Go Mexico guide says. I believe the entry begins "There's no comparing Puerto Vallarta to any other Mexican city because it's not really like a Mexican city." Ouch. Okay, true it's a resort town. It's geared to tourists. Stevie couldn't walk down the street without hearing, "Hola amigos! Are you honeymooners? Did you just get here?," greetings that would inevitably segue into sales pitches. When we just kept walking, a few shouted at are backs, "Are you from New York?" (I'm not sure what pleased me more: Getting mistaken for a New Yorker or a Canadian. Stevie thinks her pale skin accounted for the latter.)
So, yeah, it's a town that lives off visiting gringos, but I got a sense, especially in the old town section we were staying, you could still sense the real town beneath it, which was nice. There was a weird kind of cognitive feedback that set in after a while. All the strolling mariachis and two-for-one margarita signs can put you so on guard against turisma phoniness, so much so that it's easy to get confused. I remember waiting for a bus back from the beach area Mismaloya, standing by a sign inviting visitors to see where they shot Predator. A guy passed by on a slow-moving horse carrying two buckets of water on a pole balanced on the horse's back. I thought to myself, "Boy is that corny" before realizing it was really a Mexican guy carrying water on a pole on the back of a horse.
So, as a promise to Let's Go and myself, I pledge to someday return to Mexico, climb pyramids, see the colossal heads, and negotiate the Mexico City subway system. But this trip was just what we needed, which was basically a little bit of nothing.
It's odd: Let's Go used to be my travel bible and I still think it's a good series. But as I get older, it's usefulness becomes limited. I don't want, nor do I need, to stay in a place where privacy is a four-person room and a shower stall with a curtain. More to the point, I don't think it's morally better to stay in such a place than in comfort. (No, I don't vote Republican.) When I was 20, I could sleep in a crowded hostel room with loud Australians and an inch of water on the floor. Now, I can't.
Back to work.
Current Music: Kathleen Edwards
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01:10 pm
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Los Fockers La Familia De Mi Esposo
If you saw the movie Meet The Fockers in Puerto Vallarta, that´s what it would be called. If you saw the movie Finding Neverland it would translate into something like Searching For The Land Of Nothing.
Hey, I´m in Mexico. It´s all right. So far we´ve done virtually nothing but walk around, read, eat, and drink. Also, we keep having to dodge people trying to sell us stuff. Walking down the Malecon, the main street here, we hear the words "Are you honeymooners?¨ about as often as we do ¨hola.¨ We´re staying at a rennovated house turned vacation condo place (sorry, I don´t know how dashes work on this keyboard) that´s next door to the house where John Huston spent his declinng years. He lived on an island just off the coast until time took its toll. His private chef sitll has a restaurant here.
It´s cozy, if not quiet. Cars drive by blaring music at all hours. I heard "We Are The World" once, but basically the songs all sound like varations on the same accordion and impassioned vocals number with words that sound like ¨Dioz ecche echhee oohhhh .... eccche eche dioz oohhhhohooooo.¨ (Any resemblance to actual Spanish is purely accidental as is any resemblance to ugly American style generalizations.)
Also, the movie Spanglish, is called Espanglish here.
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10:07 pm
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Quick hits
Quick hits, just to get a post up:
The irresistible will of Redd Foxx
Stevie's in the other room watching a Sanford and Son rerun as I write this. To backtrack: Chicago's UPN outlet recently launched a satellite channel called ME TV. I'm not sure who the "ME" is supposed to reference. I think it's mostly for symmetry with UPN's "The U" campaign. If I had to guess, the "ME" would mostly be the people who live in my condo. That may be an exaggeration, since I did find an unofficial fan site. It's got a typical schedule which ought to tell you what I'm talking about. Basically, it's programmed like an old-style, pre-FOX, pre-WB, pre-UPN local station, all reruns and cheaply licensed movies. Sanford and Son segues into The Twilight Zone into Taxi. 
So, speaking of Sanford and Son: Apparently no one could act opposite Redd Foxx without laughing. Don't believe me? Check out any episode. You may not be laughing, but the cast sure will. How could I never have noticed this before?
How we spent our winter
ME TV premiered in the dead of winter here in Chicago, which if you're going to launch a TV station that encourages unhealthy viewing habits, that's pretty much the ideal time and place. We've been spending a lot of time indoors, both by choice and necessity. Stevie's parents here here last weekend during a mini-blizzard. (We did manage to struggle out to get to a boat and RV show. The things we do for parents.)
But years from now, these are the things that I'm guessing will be the madelines for this stretch of my life:
• The Arcade Fire album Funeral
• The act of ripping CDs (I've been transferring my music library to my new hard drive. I just hit the S's, hence the Simon & Garfunkel)
• The first season of The O.C. (watched in long stretches during our snowed-in Christmas)
• The first time I realized that holidays could be used to reflect on how much you've lost as easily as how much makes you grateful
Business
Tomorrow we launch The Onion A.V. Club website in color, and not a moment too soon. I'd say we've been a relic in our black and white state, but as far as I know we're the only black and white website that's ever been. It's more like we're crossing over from an alternate universe. So, check it out. It's also out first issue with video game reviews and the debut of our special surprise celebrity columnist.
Fire your publicist
I got an e-mail with this subject line:
"Kelly Osbourne to Relesae Sleep in the Nothing"
It contained this copy;
"Complete with intriguing lyrics and a unique sound, Sleep in the Nothing is a well crafted collection of pop mementos that still packs one hell of a punch (and the Kelly temperament we’ve all come to know and love!). A seasoned veteran of the music industry, television and good old rabble rousing, Kelly presents a more mature sounding record. While the first single, “One Word,” offers up a haunting pop ballad, Kelly delves into a variety of topics, taking on date rape with “Don’t Touch Me,” restlessness with “Suburbia” and the deterioration of our society with “Entropy.” Tracks such as “I Can’t Wait” and “Save Me” show a much softer side of Kelly."
Where to start. Can mementos punch? Can someone be a seasoned veteran at her age? Is Kelly Osbourne taking on date rape really a selling point?
Movie of the moment
Jules Dassin's Night And The City. Now that's noir. It comes out on DVD tomorrow and it's got me really intrigued about this guy:
His name is Stanislaus Zbyszko and he plays a noble, aging wrestler trying to cleave to the old Greco-Roman wrestling style. There's a long stretch in which he wrestles with a drunk half his age. It's ugly, but it's also a bit of transcendence in all the darkness. He believes in something and fights until... Well, see the movie. Apparently Zbyszko was a professional wrestler in the U.S. from the turn-of-the-century through the twenties. Look at him and you might think, "What else could he be?" But apparently he was also a writer and an intellectual. Anyone with info, please send. He sounds like a biography waiting to happen.
Current Music: Simon & Garfunkel
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10:35 pm
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The ravages of time
I remember reading an essay a few years back wherein the writer wrote of the profound crisis he or she experienced whenever the time came to trade in an old passport for a new one. It struck as pretty ridiculous then. Now my time has come. In preparation for our well-earned, long-overdue vacation to Mexico, I took the steps to renew my passport. This means trading in my old passport. Let's call it exhibit A (click for a full-size image):
The year was 1993. America thrilled at Alec Baldwin's masterful turn as Dr. Jed Hill in Malice. ("I am god!" Well, if you say so, Alec.) A new band named Belly began its tireless assault on the Top 40 charts. And there I was, headed for a year abroad in Lancaster, England. And there's the passport picture to prove it. I'm younger, dumber, and listening to a lot more Morrissey.
And now, the new picture. But before judging, bear in mind that everyone assures me that this isn't a good image. The words "zombie" and "crackhead" have been thrown out as comparisons. Let's call it exhibit B (again, click for full-size):
Jiminy Cricket! What happened? Where did the hair go? Whither the chin? Did this guy run out of methadone in the middle of the night or what?
Suffice it to say, I'll take comfort in the fact that I rarely photograph well. But I will also keep up the 6am gym regimen as long as I can.
So, about that absence: Yes, I plan to start posting regularly again. There was, to put it mildly, a lot going on. See two entries above for the biggest, worst example. There was also a great deal of job drama that led to me assuming the position of editor. I love the job but it involved the departure of my close friend, which I did not love. Also, some close friends of mine are divorcing. It would be impolite for me to say more, except to note that there are two sides to every story. And sometimes the one side involves a person behaving like a selfish idiot for years and not caring who got hurt in the process.
But enough of that. What up blogland? Holla at a playa. Ugh. That's embarrassing.
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07:42 pm
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Back in '05
Keith Phipps is making sense will return tomorrow. There. I said it. Now I have to do it.
-Keith
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10:05 pm
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Sam Kuenn
Sam Kuenn: 1984 - 2004
My wife's brother Sam Kuenn died in a car accident this weekend. We got the news on Saturday morning. It happened a few hours before. He was visiting his hometown of Hudson, Wisconsin and riding around in the middle of the night with a friend. We, of course, couldn't be sadder. Sam was a good kid. I'd only known him for the past five years, but he's the kind of guy that makes an impression even if you only met him once. He could be the most frustrating guy you'd ever meet and he had an amazing ability to make the wrong choices or say the wrong thing. But he also had this innate sweetness that made it impossible to stay angry at him for more than a second or two.
That's Sam in the middle, flanked by Stevie and his brother Kyle. This photo was taken on a family trip to Alaska.
I'd been compiling a few things in my mind I've been wanting to post about (the way Tom Petty always gets underrated, the brilliance of Mark Kozelek's AC/DC covers album, the election, of course, which left me too frustrated to post for a while). This kind of even stops all other thoughts dead. I hate that Sam's not going to be an uncle to my kids. I hate that everyone in his family is hurting so much. But mostly I hate that he's gone. Obviously, most of you reading this don't know Sam. I'll end this post (probably my last for the week since we're going to Florida to the funeral) with my favorite things about Sam because he was worth getting to know.
• Sam had the worst fake ID I've ever seen. I wish I had a scan of it to share. He may as well have penciled a mustache and put the name Ramon Hernandez on it. I saw a White Sox beer vendor reject it once. It was that bad.
• Sam would call me at inappropriate hours to ask about movies. Once he called me at midnight to ask my opinion on the second half of a double-bill at a drive-in. He wanted to know if he and his friends should stick it out.
• Sam liked what he liked uncritically. He loved hockey and Packers football and the Republican party. He made his choices and stuck with them.
• Sam had hilariously bad taste in music. He owned CDs of Christian ska bands. He once explained to me how ska was an '80s music that came from crossing punk with jazz.
• Sam liked people. He just kind of took to them without even thinking to judge them. When Stevie's family still lived in Hudson, at least half the time he walked in the house it would be with a friend, often someone new.
• One time Sam came home from a weekend camping trip covered in lipstick. His explanation involved a late night run-in with some girl campers that was too stupid not to believe.
• Sam liked me. Stevie's family made me feel instantly welcome from the start and Sam was a big part of this. We didn't really have that much in common, but we got along. He felt like family before my wedding made it official and I really wish he was still around.
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09:31 am
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My thoughts on the election
Almost finished with its dinner of grubworms and sour milk, America looks up and says, "I'll have more of that, please!"
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06:51 pm
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My Political Career (and how we stalk celebrities in Chicago)
The Rise And Fall Of Candidate Phipps
Out of nowhere my own political past came back to haunt me today. Cleaning out her closets, my mom found a speech I'd apparently written in a bid for class president in fourth grade. Here it is verbatim:
"My Fellow Class- Mates
One thing I have noticed in the last speeches that in most of them 'I
would like to be elected' was heard repeatedly . Well I would imagine we would all like to be elected, but do you want to be elected because of the honor? Or because you feel it is your duty to represent your classmates? Be sure you make good judgment in your voting. May the most qualified candidate win. All votes appreciated."
Attached was this note, written by me:
"This is my campaign speech given on election day, November 2, 1982. I did
not win the election."
My mom attached this note: "Keith, I think this was a very good speech for a 4th grader." I guess she's right. The funny thing is I don't even remember running for class president. "All votes appreciated"? Is that an attempt at a bribe? Maybe that's not such a very good speech, fourth-grader or no.
Academy Award Nominee Joan Cusack
Joan Cusack lives in the same neighborhood as my friend Kate. On the way back from Graceland on Sunday we idled outside her house and waited for kids to approach so we could watch her hand out candy. We saw her.
All votes appreciated
If you haven't voted yet, for shame. Get out there, if you still can. And, yeah, vote for whoever you want to vote for. And by that, I mean, vote for John Kerry.
Current Music: WOXY
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11:09 am
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Roaring back from a weeklong silence, it's...
...Time To Post Again
Yeah, geez, sorry. [lame mumbled excuses about late-nights watching the world series and fretting over the election]
Eggs, no zombies
Yesterday, at the prompting of our good friend Anne Ford and with the accompaniment of Dan and Kate (with Bryce occupied by a "study emergency") we enjoyed a Halloween brunch at the Chopping Block. Not, as its name might suggest, a horror-themed restaurant, the Chopping Block is a Lincoln Square cooking store/educational center. In front of our eyes, the chef (whose name escapes me) assembled a bizarre/tasty layered entree. At the base: A hash of potatoes and sweet potatoes infused with curry sauce and nestled in a circle of sushi rice. On top of that, a fried egg. On top of that, a delicious salsa. Resting on the side, depending on one's preferences, a piece of bacon-wrapped pork or some mushrooms. (Currently on a bit of a health kick, I went of the mushrooms.) Apart from an awkward moment in which the chef discussed tasting dog out of a chefly obligation to try all the foods of the world, it was a lovely meal.
Heartened, we then hit Graceland Cemetery for its last tour of the year. I'd never been before. Built in 1860, it's a bit like a necropolis Chicago. Not only do some of our most famous residents reside there, but it offers a cross-section of the past century-and-a-half of memorial styles, much like Chicago offers the same for architecture. And, probably not so coincidentally, you can find a lot of architects there, including:
and
Finally, is it just me, or does one of the most famous memorials, Eternal Silence, look like The Spectre? Is there a story here?
 
Back to work. But more later. I promise.
Current Music: WOXY
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05:47 pm
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Overheard
Today on the Brown Line heading north around five:
Female commuter #1: "You mean Kevin Kevin?"
Female commuter #2: "No, Nice Guy Kevin."
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07:08 pm
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Pip pip
Note to the Starbucks employees who served me this afternoon:
Yes, I did notice you adopted fake British accents. No, I didn't see fit to comment on it then. But it occurs to me now that I should mention that real British people don't throw around the word "cheerio" with the frequency of commas. In fact, they don't really use that word much at all.
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04:51 pm
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It lives
My apology
To my loyal readers (both of you),
I must apologize for not posting in so long. I really want to keep up the habit but as some of you know this past week has been a professionally trying one. All that was on my mind was a work-related issue that I couldn't, and didn't really, want to make public. I still don't really, but let's just say this: We almost lost a key staffer this week because of a competing offer from another publication. In the end we didn't. The paper stepped in and did the right thing and I think both said employee and the publication will be happier for doing so in the end. At any rate, I'm happier. I don't want to lose anyone. It's a team and everyone's indispensable. I'm sure one day someone will leave and the dynamic will change... but not today. And now I can sleep at night, most of the time anyway.
Obligatory Jon Stewart comments
Awesome. That's all I have to say. Okay, there's this: If he makes a habit of chiding everyone he doesn't like, it's going to get old. But as a left-field surprise, what an electrifying bit of television. Haven't seen it yet? Try here.
Speaking of left field...
Baseball, jeez post-season has been reliably awesome this year. Our least-favorite Fox commentator is in the habit of shrieking, "You can't script October!" whenever she can't think of anything else to say. But sometimes it just feels scripted. Game-ending home runs! Come from behind victories! A possible Houston/Boston matchup that would mirror the Presidential race! Now if only it weren't on so late at night I could count on not feeling so groggy the rest of the month.
The Gift
So my second wedding anniversary is coming up and I don't know what would make a good gift. I don't know if there's a traditional second anniversary gift. A cursory search of the net turned up nothing, but I did find a site entitled anniversarygifts.net that features custom watercolors from Ruthie Friedman starting at just $150. A sample:
Apparently this is from when Allison Hannigan married an emo rocker.
And this is from years later when they got old and fat.
Stevie... All of this could be yours! No, seriously. What do you want?
Blurbed
Check out the New York Times. Check out MTV and the Daily Show. Watch for the I Heart Huckabees ads. We've been blurbed. More specifically our own Nathan Rabin's rave of that peculiar-looking film I still haven't seen yet but really want to see gets blurbed. The purist in me wants to be blasé about it, but it's still pretty damn cool.
From hell
Are you aware of this?
Don't you wish you weren't?
Letters, oh we get letters
Finally, I'll end with an excerpt from an e-mail from Dr. Tabitha C. Tickles M.D. (not her real name, I'm guessing) regarding my interview with Merle Haggard:
"I love a lot of music, all different kinds and different singers, but honestly I think that Merle Haggard has the most moving voice I've every heard. God gave me a drunk for a Dad, but my Dad loves Merle - and know I do too. So even though I don't know where Dear Old Dad is I do know that he's somewhere getting drunk listening to Merle Haggard. He even told me a few years back that if I wanted to understand him better I should read Merle's autobiography. I did and oddly he was right. My Dad's still a worthless bum, but the book was a good read."
Thanks, Tabitha!
Current Music: WOXY
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07:05 pm
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Kissing up to the Joest Common Denominator
ONION man about town Joe Garden (also known as the naked guy from that one story) has promised to start reading this. In a brazen ploy to appeal the Joe Garden demographic, here is a poster for the movie Congorilla:
That is all.
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01:59 pm
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C'C'C'Mon Everybody! (Or: The Year The Music Died?)
Here's a question: Is this the worst year for music since Jive Bunny and the Mastermixers strung together a bunch of oldies to a canned beat in 1990? Okay, that's an unfair comparison. Jive Bunny represents the nadir of music, and possibly of culture in general, but so far—and we're getting close enough to the end of the music year to talk this way— 2004 has coughed up one disappointment from major artists after another and offered little new to compensate for it. It started strong on both fronts, with strong releases from Kanye West (newish), Nellie McKay (new), Modest Mouse (old, well kind of), and Loretta Lynn (real old). Since then I've found little to latch onto. R.E.M.? Dull. PJ Harvey? Warmed over. Morrissey? Marginally, and only marginally, better than the stuff he turned out in the late '90s no matter what you've heard. The Bjork album I can only admire from a distance like an art object from a genre that doesn't do much for me. Elvis Costello, Old 97s, Guided By Voices, Beta Band, Prince, Badly Drawn Boy, Robyn Hitchcock... you're all pulling down C+s in the Entertainment Weekly of my mind. Even the Tom Waits album doesn't quite do it for me. I'm still holding out hope for De La Soul and Mos Def (although Nathan's not too encouraging on that last one) and I've got a lot of love for The Streets, the Black Keys, The Roots, and I'm intrigued by Davendra Banhart but overall... eh? My album of the year so far: Smile.
So here's the other question: Is it me? Am I finally getting old and losing touch? Have I missed out on all the good stuff somehow?
Current Music: New Camper Van Beethoven
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